


“And “here” is?”

by elainebarrish



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: F/F, I hate me, look @ this 10k disasterpiece, trash trash trash trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elainebarrish/pseuds/elainebarrish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jeanine is everything she hates, is responsible for the death of her friends, of her parents, and yet all she can think about is her locked up in that cell, her with her hair coming undone and without her heels, her hand still bandaged in a way that points out that that’s Tris’s fault too, but all Tris can think is that Jeanine must be so scared, that she of all people is scared, and at their mercy, and that reversal is somehow enough for her to almost trust her."</p>
<p>Jeanine + Tris end up hanging out a lot. (Jeanine doesn't die at the end of Insurgent. No one knows what to do with her.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	“And “here” is?”

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally the most ridiculous, messiest thing I've ever written. I haven't even read the books. I did this for Kate Winslet and for Hatter. Y'all are entirely 2 blame. I can't even complain @ Kate Winslet abt this bc if she ever saw it I wld die. basically yeah it's AU af bc I couldn't kill one half of my OTP. I hate YA. I didn't even like the films I just liked Kate Winslet's outfits and her being mean and jabbing Tris's bullet hole.

Jeanine is everything she hates, is responsible for the death of her friends, of her parents, and yet all she can think about is her locked up in that cell, her with her hair coming undone and without her heels, her hand still bandaged in a way that points out that that’s Tris’s fault too, but all Tris can think is that Jeanine must be so scared, that she of all people is scared, and at their mercy, and that reversal is somehow enough for her to almost trust her.

Four wants to know why she’s distant, Christina still doesn’t want to speak to her, and her brain’s just been muttering “Jeanine, Jeanine, Jeanine,” this whole time. The one image she can call up are her eyes widening as she’s handcuffed, the Dauntless that haul her away cruel and unyielding, Four trying to hug Tris as she tracks her with her eyes. When’s out of sight her gaze falls to Evelyn, who’s watching Jeanine with the kind of hatred that reeks of some kind of shared history, and Tris vows not to let her in Jeanine’s cell on her own, because that sort of hatred gets unarmed people killed. Before she knows it she’s vowing to protect her, and while she should be preparing to leave the city she’s staring out of windows and fighting the urge to confront one of them about their shared past. Mostly she wanted to confront Jeanine because she’d seen her vision crumble before her very eyes, and if Jeanine was as Erudite as she presented she'd be changing plans, following the facts, doing things logically instead of influenced by emotion. Jeanine had believed what she was doing was right, had believed that the faction system was the answer, but if Tris had to guess she’d say that if she got hit with one of her own darts it wouldn’t knock her out.

It’s not the first time she’s stood outside of her cell, not letting herself be within Jeanine’s view, not making a sound, though she knows that she will have heard her boots as she approached, heard her stop short, heard the long, long pause before she leaves again. When she finally does enter she hopes that Jeanine will be smirking and knowledgeable, that she’ll take the tiny amount of power she has left and wield it with brutal efficiency. The thought of her powerless and despondent is not attractive to Tris, not something she’d ever wish for.

Tris is glad for her late night vigils, and early morning vigils, and weird time of day vigils, when she stops Evelyn in her tracks at least three times, the steely look in her eyes disappearing when she notices Tris there, and it’s not until the fourth time, smirk replacing her determination, when she actually says something to her.  
“Why don’t you just speak to her?” she asks, quietly enough that Jeanine won’t hear, but Tris has a feeling she’ll recognise their voices, even without hearing the words.

“Because I want to forgive her, and I’m not sure I’ll enjoy that if it happens.”

“You do realise she’s responsible for the murders of countless people?” Evelyn asks, her tone dry, but she looks faintly exasperated with the whole situation.

Tris can hear the disbelief in her voice, it’s etched on every part of her face, clear even in the perfect makeup that enhances her eyes.

“I know. But she believed in what she was doing, she wanted power, yes, but she also fought for what she believed was best for all.”

“Tris.” She laughed, shaking her head, brown curls falling forward, in a manner that is both condescending and understanding, like she’s seen this too many times, has seen too many forgive this woman over the years. “I have a personal matter to settle with her, you’re not getting in the way of that.”

“No one’s killing her.” She said firmly, moving in front of the door so Jeanine could see her, voice loud enough she could hear her, and even though Tris didn’t want her powerless the thought that she knew she owed her her life made her oddly pleased. Evelyn’s gaze flicked over to the Dauntless guard who was making a show of trying to be discreet, and she knew that if she so much as moved towards Tris quickly she’d have a gun trained at her head.

“Fine, but do me a favour and actually speak to her this time. If we leave her in there with no mental stimulus her overly large brain will eat itself.”

“Okay,” she took a deep breath. “Thank you. I understand why several people feel that she can’t be allowed to live, I felt the same.”

“Well if she somehow makes a come back and attempts to take over again we know who to blame.” Evelyn responded, smile hard, then turned sharply on her heel, heading back down the corridor, boots clicking on the concrete floor, one final look at Tris as she turned the corner, and then the sound of her boots receding out of earshot. Then it was just the guard, Tris, and the imposing door of the cell, which Tris turned to to see Jeanine watching her with a raised eyebrow, her posture perfect as ever, backlit by the solitary, barred window. She opens the door, approaches slowly, and is pleased that she doesn’t jump when it’s slammed shut behind her.

“So I suppose I owe you my life now,” Jeanine starts, after a long tense silence during which Tris mostly tries to block out her thoughts, her heartbeat racing and her palms sweating like she’s ended up sat with the older girl had a crush on during lunch.

“I suppose you do. Although who knows, maybe Evelyn just wanted to have a nice long chat with you about all of the things that you did wrong.”

“Is that what you’re here to do? Attempt to make me repent?”

“No. I think that finding out you were wrong is enough of a punch to the gut for you on it’s own. That’s going to take you a while to come back from. You held on to your convictions though, even as you saw your plans and your world crumble around you, which wasn’t very Erudite of you.”

“I hadn’t had enough time to rework my plan,” she shrugged, smoothly, looking unflustered and rather unlike she had just almost been executed without trial, all despite of the hair that was coming free from what had once been her sleek updo.

“You thought it was what was right, what was best for those under your power. You thought it was for the greater good, which by all accounts is not what those of the Erudite faction have been known to support, they mostly seem to support knowledge before all else. Did you ever run your own divergent test on yourself?”

“No. It wasn’t necessary. I am, was, the leader of the Erudite faction, it was highly unlikely that I would deviate from what was expected.”

“Personally, I think you should.” Tris shrugged. “What’s the harm? I can’t help but think that something, other than your high IQ, helped you along in your quest for power.”

“That makes it sound so dramatic,” she smirked, even though she didn’t look particularly comfortable with the idea that she may be divergent herself.

“I can probably tell the guard to get someone to bring up one of your testing things, so we can see for ourselves.”

“Even if I was I would not be any more than ten or twenty percent, not enough to actually make me stand out from my faction.”

“But you do stand out,” Tris shrugged again, smiling. “You seized control, let the other factions trust you. Your plan wasn’t just smart, it was also brave. Like imagine if everyone had found out,” she laughed. “Everyone did find out, and you ended up in jail, and you also ended up being wrong. Both of those things probably hurt that brain of yours.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind having a couple of magazines to entertain myself with.” Her smirk remains and Tris is glad, glad that she continues to be cold and impassive and calculating, even after all of the events that have lead her here.

“I make no promises on the magazine front,” she paused. “But I’m sure no one will mind if I steal some mind-numbingly boring science books from the Erudite building.”

“Bring some fiction too, I might as well make use of all of the free time I suddenly find myself having.”

“I’ll see what I can do, if only so that you brain doesn’t explode, it’d be a waste after I bothered to keep Evelyn away from you.” Tris isn’t sure why she agrees, not even as she meets ice blue eyes, both of them smirking like they have the upper hand, though Tris is pretty sure she lost that to Jeanine a long time ago, along with whatever sanity she might have had left. When she leaves she feels those eyes follow her, and she’s sure not to look back or let her step falter until she’s almost out of the building, taking a deep breath and leaning against the wall, wondering how Jeanine could still affect her even when she wasn’t able to do anything.

Tris leaves it almost two weeks before she goes back with an armful of books, random ones that she had pulled out of the fiction section and then wandered out of the deserted library with, the alarms briefly going off but there was no one to stop her. It had been long enough for Jeanine to think she wasn’t coming back, but what had felt like an excruciatingly long time, and Tris knew she shouldn’t feel relief when she sees Jeanine through the window in her cell door, but it’s all she’s been able to think about during the time that she should have been joining the others to explore beyond the city limits. Some people had already gone to find those that lived beyond the walls, and everyone had been expecting her to go, that the person who was the most divergent would be leading the charge, and everyone had then been surprised by her lack of interest. She knew she was being unfair to Four, that he didn’t understand why she’d started sleeping in a different room or why she never seemed to have any time for him, even when he knew that she presently wasn’t doing much of anything. He’d gone with the others, and she’s been left with her brother, who she’d let out of his cell without question, and Tori, who still had that knowing glint in her eyes.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Jeanine said dispassionately, not rising from where she was sat on her narrow bunk, leaning against the wall. Tris let her armful books fall onto to the bed next to her, taking a seat in the chair opposite.

“Well I figured that you probably don’t get many visitors, so maybe letting you stew in your mistakes for a while would be good for you.”

“It’s been a month, I’ve had more than enough time to analyse all of the things I could have done better.”

“Well now you have War and Peace to accompany your feelings of disappointment.”

“Just what I’ve always wanted.” She muttered, eyes raking over the slightly disappointing collection, but not reaching out to grab them, not wanting to seem too eager.

“At least you brought some Shakespeare I suppose.”

“The library was completely deserted, no one even appeared when the alarms went off.” Tris smiled. “I guess no one appreciates a good old book when their entire world has been toppled.”

“Most people aren’t sitting in a cell with nothing to do but stare at the wall,” she raised her eyebrow, curiosity already evident. “I’m surprised you’re not already beyond the wall, discovering what makes you so special.”

“You sound a little bitter, guess you thought you were the special one.” She shrugged and moved to the window, staring past the deactivated barrier that split the city off from whatever existed of the rest of the world. “I only ever wanted to exist without having to worry about someone wanting to kill me, I never really wanted to overthrow the government, and I don’t really care what’s out there, so long as it doesn’t interfere with me.” She wonders if she’s revealed too much, can feel Jeanine’s gaze pressing on her shoulder blades like a physical touch.

“You just want to have your happy ever after with Tobias.” It’s a statement but somehow it’s almost snide, and Tris almost wants to turn around so that she can see her expression.  
“Just call him Four,” she muttered, shoulders tense. “I just wanted the freedom to be able to do that, if that’s what I wanted, yes.”

“If? Trouble in paradise?” her tone is still sarcastic, but more reined in than her last remark, and when Tris does turn, hands settling behind her on the windowsill, she was sure that she had revealed too much to the woman who could sniff out drama without even concentrating, that was too smart to not have noticed that “if”.

“Have fun with your books.” She managed, and then left, vowing not to come back, vowing not to continue letting thoughts of her monopolise her time, and she’d already failed the latter by the time she got back to her room.

When Four gets back he tries to tell her everything, tries to get her to go back to being the Tris that he knows, not the version that spends her time punching dummies and staring out of windows sightlessly. Even Tris couldn’t tell someone how she spends the next month, drifting without some sort of task to fulfill her. She spends more time with Tori, whose careful not to mention Jeanine by name, or even to mention Erudite as a faction, and the two of them help out where they can, doing odd jobs for basically anyone who asks for help, trying to rebuild the trust that Jeanine had destroyed within the factions, even as many of the people they speak to don’t agree with Tris’s decision to forgive most of Erudite. She lets Jeanine take the blame, and leaves the others to attempt to find some kind of place within the confusion that the city is in.

Tris and Four break up, he’s distraught and she doesn’t seem any different, and Tori doesn’t ask her why. The only thing she says is, “go talk to her.” One night as Tris left to go to bed, and she doesn’t have to ask who Tori means.

“I can’t. Distance might help, eventually.”

“Tris, what do you think your feelings for her are?” she asks gently, stopping Tris dead in the doorway, her hand still on the door handle, her back to the room.

“Well, they’re just,” she paused. “I don’t know,” she eventually said, mostly honestly, finally turning to face her. “It doesn’t make any sense, I thought it was anger but now it’s like I’m intrigued, or, I don’t know, like I want to find out more about her.”

“Tris, just talk to her.”

“What would I even talk to her about?” She looked like a nervous lovestruck teen, a fourteen year old girl with her first crush, standing awkwardly in her best friend’s doorway.

“You’ll think of something,” she smiled. “Night.”

“Night.” She muttered, leaving and then wandering the corridors for some time, until eventually she ended up walking to the building that housed Jeanine, walking up the many stairs to her cell, finding the woman on her mind asleep. She only lingers for a moment, looking at the moonlight spilling across high cheekbones, and that’s when she recognises the feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had been ignoring, that attraction was what had lead to her standing outside the building regularly, resisting entering to exchange attempts at insults with this woman. Jeaning is woken up by the sound of fast, heavy steps retreating down the corridor, recognising Tris just before she was out of view through the window in the door. She never thought that she’d be thinking she was disappointed to see the back of her.

Tris isn’t sure whether she’s glad or not that the next time she goes to see her in the middle of the night she’s awake, reading War and Peace, and she looks up as soon as the sound of Tris’s boots reach her ears, like she’d been waiting for her.

“I was rather hoping you’d bring some books with you,” she finally says after Tris has walked in and sat down, eyeing Jeanine like she was something dangerous.

“I hadn’t been intending to come back,” she admits after another long pause, looking at her hands.

“This is the thirteenth time I’ve read War and Peace. I’m sure that does terrible things to a person’s mental capabilities.”

Tris almost smiles despite herself. “Well if you have any requests be sure to make them known.”

“Surprise me, it’ll give me something to look forward to.”

“Guess the five books closest to the entrance will do then.” Tris’s smile finally breaks through, and it’s met with a smirk from Jeanine. She stands to leave, still smiling a little.

“Don’t wait over a month before you come back this time.” She paused, and then her tone shifted to sarcastic, like she felt she’d let herself be too vulnerable. “I’m not sure I’ll survive another reading of War and Peace.”

Tris laughed. “I’ll try not to.” then she turned and left, and was still careful not to look back. Tori didn’t say anything about the grin on Tris’s face the next day, but she was glad to see it.

Tris doesn’t wait this time, and when she goes back it’s only been two days, and she has more book than last time, enough the Dauntless on guard raises their eyebrows and opens the door for her. Jeanine doesn’t pretend to be disinterested this time, and she’s already reaching for the books by the time Tris lets them fall on the bed.

“Anna Karenina, really?”

“I just grabbed the ones with the nicest covers,” Tris shrugged as she sat down.

“I should have said no more Russian literature,” she muttered, picking through the pile. Tris tried to fight her smile as Jeanine purposefully attempted to hide any sort of positive reaction to the titles Tris had brought.

“Maybe we should get you some bookshelves, if you’re going to attempt to read the entire library.”

“You wouldn’t have to if I was allowed in the library.”

“I’m not sure everyone else will accept you being allowed that sort of freedom after only having been in a cell for a few months.”

“I’m confused as to what, exactly, these people think I’m capable of, considering that what lead to my success last time was their trust in me.”

“I think it’s more that they want to see you punished, and not them being scared of what you could do.”

“Would you not say that you’re one of those people?” 

Tris should have known that she’d notice that she’d said “they” and not “we”, that Tris was distancing herself from the others. “I don't think locking you up will achieve anything,” she said diplomatically.

“But others do?”

“I think a lot of people don't know what to do with you. People who had family in Abnegation want you dead, but that's not an option and they know that. Otherwise, I think a lot of people just don't want to see you.”

“That explains why no one's come to see me,” she said sarcastically. “I don't understand the necessity of the cell.”

“Well I can probably take you on a walk or something, just so long as no one sees you and you promise to behave.”

“Don't you have to check with someone for that?” Jeanine laughed, trying not to get her hopes up; she hadn’t been outside for a long time, and hadn’t expected that to be something she missed.

“So long as you’re not stupid enough to try anything I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she shrugged.

“No, as much as I’d like to think I could fight you, I somewhat doubt I’d win.”

“So you are as smart as your IQ suggests.” Tris smiled and then stood up, leaving to talk to the guard for a moment and then returning. “They said it’s fine, so long as I don’t let you out of my sight for even a second.”

“Now?”

Tris shrugged again. “It’s not like you’re got anything else planned.”

“Well I did have a date with Tolstoy planned but I suppose that can be postponed.” She stood, patting her hair self-consciously when Tris’s back was turned, wearily following her out of the cell, and then Tris took her arm, swearing that it was just so that she could stop her from making any sudden moved, not because she was enjoying the way their sides pressed together. Jeanine was careful not to react, practically pretending not to notice. Tris’s hold on her arm tightened as they got outside and she started to lead them away from the city, away from anywhere where they could run into anyone else.

“Enjoying yourself there?” Jeanine says as sarcastically as possible to cover any kind of reaction she may be having, eyeing her arm pointedly, and she just smirks as Tris blushes and loosens her grip.

“Just making sure you can’t make a run for it.” She clears her throat and stares resolutely ahead. They don’t speak much after that though they spend an hour wandering through the deserted area, and Jeanine tries to act like she’s not ridiculously tired by the time they get back; pacing her cell is not the same thing as actually walking outside, it seems.

The same Dauntless guard is still there when the two of them get back, and they look relieved that Tris is still leading Jeanine, holding firmly onto her arm.

“See you later,” Tris mutters from the doorway and quickly exits, while Jeanine tries to pretend like she isn’t hoping that soon really does mean soon.

Two months later and it’s become part of Tris’s routine, that every few days she appears with more books, because Jeanine gets through them at an alarming rates, and they got for a walk, away from where Jeanine can be seen by anyone. Sometimes it’s an hour, sometimes two, and sometimes (this has been happening more often recently), Tris stays for a little bit when they get back. Somehow Jeanine convinces her to read things, even though it takes Tris forever to get through even short plays, and they dodge the topic of Before much less than they used to. Somehow something akin to mutual trust has been built between them in the time it’s been, though Tris still doesn’t let go of her arm when they’re outside her cell, and Jeanine tries to pretend to herself that she resents it.

“I found that book you were talking about before,” Tris announces, smiling as she deposits the books on Jeanine’s bed, not sitting down as they usually left immediately.

“The sonnets?” Jeanine asked, her interest piqued as she up, not bothering to look until they got back.

“Yeah, you never told me you liked poetry,” Tris smirked, leading the way out of the cell, taking her arm and wondering why she still hadn’t got used to the contact.

“Only some poetry,” she said defensively. “And you liked the Plath I made you read.”

“Yeah but it was depressing,” she laughed. “And you did tell me that Plath was one of the only poets you liked, you never said that you also enjoyed Shakespeare’s sonnets.”

“So I’m a Shakespeare fan, most of the best people are.”

“I’m not.” Tris retorted, her arm tightening like usual as she opened the door to the building, both of them moving closer as they squeezed through the doorway, each of them working to keep their reactions internal.

“You’re acting like I was including you in “best people”.” Tris turns to her indignantly, but Jeanine’s smirk highlights the teasing tone of her words, so she just rolls her eyes instead and continues walking.

“You also said “most”,” she pointed out.

“I don’t actually know whether or not some of the people I would have included in that like Shakespeare.” She replied, logically, and tried not to laugh at the way that Tris just tutted in response.

Sometime later Jeanine shivers; winter has started to take hold and Tris had not considered how the light blue dress that seemed to be her prison uniform would not adequately defend her from the wind. Tris is taking her jacket off before Jeanine can react, slipping it onto her shoulders before she has time to tell her that she’s not really that cold. She slides her arms in gratefully, and though it would be too tight if she zipped it up, the sleeves are too long, hanging over her hands. She tries not to think about whether or not Tris’s hands lingered on her shoulders for a second too long, tries not to think about how the jacket smells like Tris.

“Won’t you be cold now?” she tries, though she has no real intention of giving the jacket back.

“No, I don’t really feel the cold that much, and I’m wearing a vest under my shirt anyway.” She shrugged, and tried not to mentally add “anyway you look cute in my clothes”, while also trying not to admire her too obviously, taking her arm and facing forward once again.

“Well, thank you,” she manages, and they both continue on their winding path, and when Tris leaves later she forgets to take it with her. Jeanine wears it out on their walks almost every time after that, and Tris tries not to let it distract her, tries not to think about how different it is to see her in the Dauntless colours of black with a hint of red.

Tris always gets invited to council meetings, as she is one of the members, or she’s something anyway, but she never goes, so everyone’s surprised to see her take the chair that is always there for her, around the table on a raised platform, so that others can come and watch the council make decisions. Tris has never understood why anyone would want to witness this, and she’s a good ten minutes late so everyone looks at her as she steps up and sits down. She doesn’t interrupt while they spend a boring hour going over things that she didn’t even realise were issues, things she took for granted, and she tries not to look at Four, though she knows that he’s spent the whole meeting with his eyes on her, and she’s glad when the old leader of Candor asks if there’s anything else that anyone wants to bring up.

“Yes, actually,” she starts, and feels the entire room turn to her, coughing to cover up her discomfort. “I’d like to talk about Jeanine’s continued jail time?”

“Miss Prior?” The leader of Candor asked, in surprise like he didn’t know what to say, while the rest of the council shifted uncomfortably.

“I just wondered what exactly we were planning to do with her, as she can’t really stay in that cell for the rest of her life, considering how long that would be? And obviously I understand the need for punishment but it just strikes me as slightly pointless, how we’re wasting the smartest person of what’s left of Erudite.”

“We can’t just let her go after what she’s done,” Four objected, and his confusion and feelings of betrayal are clear.

“That’s not what I’m suggesting. Can’t we just return her to her rooms? Have her guarded, and not able to leave with a chaperone, obviously, but it’s not like she’s capable of much.”

“Her rooms have already been repurposed.”

“Mr Kang, surely there’s somewhere we can put her? There’s no point her being left in that cell, we could start her on a project or something -”

“And why are you so interested, Miss Prior?” he asked sharply, ignoring Four’s attempts to interrupt.

“She’s responsible for the deaths of my parents, you know that,” she took a deep breath. “But I honestly think that she’s not aiming to try any sort of coup, that she has no intention to put herself in a position to be beaten again.”

“We’re well aware that you’ve been seeing her regularly, and been allowing her freedoms that you haven’t cleared with anyone else. This has been allowed because we thought that you, of us all, would be able to keep yourself impartial.”

“I am impartial. And I don’t think keeping her locked up is punishing her in any way, and I don’t think it’s necessary. Surely you can give her some sort of trial period, like let her out on parole and if she tries something then she can go straight back into jail again,” Tris tried.

“Even if we were to let her move to her own apartment or something, she would still need to be under twenty-four hour supervision, which is easier to provide while she’s in a cell.”

“If you make sure there’s nothing that she could use to escape, even if you just put her high up, and locked all the windows, she may be smart but she has no upper body strength. She’s a very low flight risk.”

Four tried to interject but Jack held up his hand, making him pause as he thought it over. “If you so fervently believe that she can be rehabilitated then I’m making her your responsibility. I’ll organise your moving to a larger apartment, and I’ll send some people to help you move out and then into your new apartment this afternoon. Her guard will bring Ms Matthews over as soon as the rooms are secured. Meeting adjourned.”

Tris stares at him in shock for a long moment, as do the rest of the council members, watching him collect his papers and stand, walking away. She follows suit quickly, before Four can follow her, and has already dissolved into the crowd by the turn he turns to find her.

She’s just opened her first box to unpack when Four bursts through her front door, not noticing that Jeanine’s in the kitchen actually helping, unpacking her own boxes of the little kitchenware that Tris owns.

“How could you? She’s a murderer!” He starts, and Tris just looks up disinterestedly and then continues unpacking the books brought from her old flat, storing them in the bookshelves that she was glad had already been here.

“So am I. So are you. We’ve all done things we regret.” Her tone is flat, unresponsive.

“But we were just trying to stop her. Tris, what’s going on?”

She sighed, gripping the edges of the boxes, her knuckles turning white. “She did what she believed in. We all did. People paid for the choices we all made. Our very own faction helped her, remember? But you haven’t thrown every member of Dauntless into prison, and the rest of Erudite isn’t in prison either, and she’s not even free, she’s just somewhere out of the way.”

“Tris, how can you trust her? What if she tries to kill you?”

“I sleep with a knife under my pillow,” she shrugged.

He grabbed her arm, and she flinched and then cursed herself for it as he dragged her around to face her.

“Tris think about what you’re doing,” he said, urgently.

“Let go of me.” Her voice was still quiet, but it was purposefully empty of emotion.

“Tris please,” he tried again.

“Let go of her.” Jeanine’s voice echoed through the mostly empty sitting room from where she stood in the kitchen doorway, and Four looked up in alarm.

“Why? So you can kill her when she’s unprepared?”

“Tobias, let go of her.” She stepped further into the room, and when Tris turned to her her face softened slightly, and his hand fell from her arm. Tris stepped towards her, and the two of them stood in the middle of the room, looking at Four, Jeanine glaring and Tris looking sad, and disappointed.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” he tried, again.

“I’m disappointed, Four. I would have thought you’d learnt to forgive, considering everything that we’ve all been through over the last year,” Tris sighed. “And stop calling him Tobias,” she added.

“That is his name,” Jeanine muttered, but she relented. “Four, if you could please leave.”

“Thank you,” Tris smiled, and Four was watching them with increasing disbelief.

“You’re not impartial,” he managed, after a long moment. “I remember when you used to look at me like that.”

Tris blushed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Just go before you embarrass yourself even more.”

“I’ll go, but you think on that, Tris. You’ve fallen for the enemy.” He storms back out, leaving the door swinging open, and Tris is just thankful that he didn’t break the lock as she goes to close it.

“”Fallen for the enemy”?” Jeanine quoted, skeptically, a smirk on her face.

“He’s always leaned towards the dramatic.” Tris replies, keeping her face blank and trying to push her blush down as she went back to taking books out of the box, ignoring Jeanine as she looked at her for a long moment.

“You might as well order them,” Jeanine says after a long moment.

“Did they bring the ones from your cell with you?”

“The box is over here somewhere…” she trailed off as she attempted to read the writing on the boxes that were stacked up in the corner.

“What order do you want them in?”

“Alphabetically by author then title,” Jeanine said, still distracted by looking for the box, shifting them about.

“Leave that to me, I’ll find them,” Tris smiled. “You go back to unpacking the kitchen.”

“Why do you have so few usual staple utensils? Like where’s your colander?”

“I don’t know what one of those is, and I usually eat with Dauntless so I haven’t needed most things. I basically only eat at home when I’m hungry at a weird time.”

“We’re going to have to go shopping later,” Jeanine said firmly, then disappeared back into the kitchen. Tris spends most of the day trying to order the bookshelves, and Jeanine cooks dinner for them both (even though she complains about the lack of utensils the whole time).

Tris doesn’t spend much time in the flat, and Jeanine isn’t allowed to leave without Tris being there, so she wastes most of her time reading the books she was allowed to actually choose herself this time, and catching up on news articles since her imprisonment. She’s surprised to notice that there’s only one side article on her movement from prison, and she resists the urge to search for herself, knowing that none of the results would be good. Jeanine makes dinner, and Tris finally finds out what a colander is, and it’s nice, which is a lot of the reason Tris doesn’t spend much time there. She avoids thinking about how cute Jeanine looks in her dressing gown, hair rumpled and her eyes unfocused until after she’s had her second coffee, avoids thinking about how glad she is that Jeanine is once again back to wearing Erudite blue, the colour that Tris thinks of as uniquely Hers.

“Honey I’m home.” Tris yells as she gets in, grinning, laughing as Jeanine looks up from her tablet and rolls her eyes. “What? I’ve never had an opportunity to say that.”

“I wouldn’t have called that an opportunity,” she replies dryly, but looks down at her tablet again anyway so that Tris can’t see her smile.

“Have you had a good day?” Tris ignores her as usual and flops down onto the sofa next to her, but not so close they’re touching, because she doesn’t need that crisis at that specific moment.

“You know full well I haven’t done anything.”

“I might go back to the council actually, I mean it’s been like a month, you’re parole period must be up.”

“I think it’s more parole for the rest of my life, as opposed to there being any chance of regaining any freedom any time soon.”

Tris frowned and looked at her hands. “Oh, I’ve been invited to some fancy event,” she sighed. “I don’t want to go. I tried to get Tori to go with me but she says she absolutely refuses to wear a dress, and, well, you know what would really annoy everyone?”

“I’m not going with you to the Annual Council Ball,” she cut her off.

“Please? They can’t stop you, if you’re with me, and think about how uncomfortable they’d look. And you’d get to wear one of those posh dresses you have in your wardrobe,” Tris tried.

“I’m not going with you just because you want to upset the council,” she said stubbornly.

“It wouldn’t just be to upset the council. I’d really like a friend to go with me. And I bet your acerbic remarks throughout the speeches would make the experience a whole lot more enjoyable.”

“Why bother to go at all, it’s not like you go to council meetings?”

“Because neither of us have had an opportunity to go and laugh at people while wearing nice dresses in a really long time. I’ll let you think about it, but seriously, you should come with me.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promises, but in a voice that still promises no, and Tris decides she’ll just have to convince her.

“Letting her think about it” turns into Tris asking her whenever she’s caught unawares, especially early in the morning when she thinks that she’ll not expect it. They’re both early risers, and so most of the time they end up having breakfast, or coffee in Jeanine’s case, at around the same time, which leads to a lot of awkward shimmying around each other in the moderately small kitchen.

“There’s coffee in the pot,” Tris paused, watching her shuffle sleepily over to get a mug. “Will you go to the ball with me?”

“No, and asking me before I’ve had coffee isn’t going to do anything other than put me off the idea even more.”

“Fine.” She sighs, and eats her toast quietly, watching as Jeanine takes a seat at the table and tries to sip her too hot coffee.

“Why are you so awake anyway you were still up when I went to bed,” she complained, clutching her mug like it held the answers to all of her problems.

“Don’t you complain about this every morning?” Tris pointed out.

“I hate morning people.” She sighed, while Tris just tried not to grin at her, sleepy and cute and grumpy, her hair falling out of its ponytail.

They bump into each other in the hallway, almost literally, and Jeanine’s wearing a towel, hair scraped back and dripping onto her shoulders, and Tris tries not to stare at a droplet of water caught in the hollow above her collarbone.

“Will you go to the ball with me?” she blurts out after a long moment of her just looking, and then trying not to look.

“To get you to stop attacking me while I’m not dressed? Fine.”

“Really?” She asks, grinning, and meeting blue eyes, noticing that she’s taller than her, that she has to look down.

“No.”

“Oh come on,” she whines, even as she steps out of the way to let Jeanine through to her room.

“This is a wholly inappropriate time for this conversation,” is all she responds with, and ignores Tris as she follows her to the doorway of her room.

“It’s in a week and I don’t have a dress. At least help me pick out my outfit.”

“Fine, but that does not mean I’m coming with you.”

“Thank you,” Tris grins. “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

The place that Jeanine takes them to for dress shopping isn’t somewhere that Tris had even known existed, and she’s alarmed by the amount of Erudite blue that she can see.

“This was all just a ploy to make me wear your blue, wasn’t it?” she narrows her eyes, and Jeanine smirks.

“Well, it is my favourite place for dress shopping. And you have to admit that wearing it would make a very bold political statement.”

“They’d all react like I’ve swapped sides or something,” she laughed.

“I’d almost be tempted to go just to see their reactions,” she flicked some hangars across on the nearest rack, looking briefly at the dresses, too fast for Tris to see much more than the colour, and then she paused. “It’s not my blue, it was the Erudite colour long before I was in charge.”

“So it’s just convenient that it matches your eyes that well?” Tris laughs, holding a dress out. “This is nice?”

“It’s not formal enough.” Jeanine replies instantly, walking further into the racks. She reappears holding a dress, which she throws to Tris.

“This is blue.”

“Wow, nothing gets past you,” she smirks. “Just trust me.” She disappears into the racks again, reappearing with two more blue dresses.

“Jeanine, I can’t wear blue,” she whines, even as she follows her to the fitting rooms, not even really bothering to look at the dresses she’s holding, knowing she’ll end up wearing whichever one Jeanine likes the most.

“Yes you can, it’ll suit you. Cool colours will suit your complexion much better than warm, and I’m personally not a fan of green.”

“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means,” she sighs, and disappears behind one of the curtains, Jeanine loitering outside. When Tris comes out she’s tugging on the top, wishing there were at least straps, and Jeanine has to take a moment while her brain is just screaming about that colour of blue on Tris, how the pair of them would look if they went together in what Tris had already declared her blue.

“It doesn’t have straps.” Tris complains, fussing while eyeing her reflection, and Jeanine shakes herself back into motion, trying to view this as just her trying to find a dress for anyone, not for this girl that she suddenly finds herself attracted to, that she’s been struggling to pin down her feelings for for months.

“It fits well, though if you’re not comfortable with the lack of straps then try one of the others on.” She says, trying to think critically and not about how Tris’s collarbones look with nothing to impede the view, her tattoo standing out on her pale skin.

Tris disappears again, and likes the next dress more, but it’s not as flattering as the first, and it’s a darker blue than before, and less the colour that Jeanine thinks of as hers, and she tries to act like that’s not a factor in her decision that it’s not to be that one.

They agree on the third, and Tris marvels at her ability to walk into the shop and pick three dresses and find the perfect one, and Jeanine smiles at the fact that this one is definitely her blue, and Tris hasn’t even said anything about it, and she thinks she’s got away with the way her eyes glaze over thinking about the two of them walking into an event full of people that believed that she should still be in prison, in that particular colour.

“I’ll wear this dress if you go with me,” Tris says, suddenly, and Jeanine sighs.

“They’ll never let me through the door.”

“They will, honestly they have no legal grounds to stop you, you’re my responsibility, and you’ll be on my arm all night.”

“”On your arm”?” she quoted with a smirk, almost grinning as Tris blushed a little, and then she relented. “I actually have a dress that will compliment that one perfectly.”

“See? It’s meant to be,” Tris turned from her reflection to grin at her, dress swishing as she did, and Jeanine looked down, distracted.

“You need shoes.”

“I suppose you’re not going to let me get away with flats?”

“However much I would prefer to be taller than you, that dress is too long for flats, even with your height.”

Tris grins at what is basically confirmation that she’s going to accompany her, and starts back towards the curtain. “We can get shoes from here, right?”

“Yes they’re in the back, now hurry up.”

“Yes ma’am.” She says sarcastically, disappearing again, and Jeanine sits on a handy nearby chair, and tries not to think about how easily she was convinced into something that she had been completely against just three days ago. All it took was Tris in that damn colour. When she comes back out her hair is rumpled from having pulled so many garments over her head, and her shirt is slightly askew, like she couldn’t be bothered to adjust it, and she’s still slipping her shoes on.

“I wouldn’t bother to put those back on if I were you, shoes are next.” Jeanine leads the way, holding the dress so that Tris has her hands free to try things on, and the first thing she does is make her try on several pairs of plain black pumps, avoiding peeptoes when Tris objects, and the ones she settles on are high enough her dress won’t drag but short enough that Tris can walk.

“You’ll have to wear them around the apartment for a while, until you get used to them.” She rolls her eyes when Tris almost falls over trying to take them off, and it’s Jeanine that pays (somehow her account had been unlocked when she was put into Tris’s care, though Tris is hardly struggling either; she gets paid a healthy amount just for existing, it seems).

“You don’t have to pay,” Tris argues, pouting.

“You haven’t looked at the price tag on those shoes, have you?” She asks with a smirk, almost laughing at Tris’s gasp when she immediately checks.

“They’re just shoes!”

“Yes, beautifully made shoes that will last longer than you will. You can always get buried in them just to make it worth it.”

Tris grumbles all the way home, even though Jeanine also carries the bags (which she hardly ever agrees to do).

“You should start getting ready,” Jeanine says, a few hours before they have to leave for the ball, and Tris looks up from her tablet in confusion.

“But there’s still ages?” She tries not to notice that Jeanine is in a bathrobe, fresh from the shower, her hair scraped back and her face scrubbed clean, all ready for the meticulous applying of makeup.

“Yes, but I assumed I’d do your makeup, as I’m sure coming from Abnegation you have no idea how to go about that, and you still need to shower and eat something.”

“Who says I haven’t showered already?” she asked defensively, hand self-consciously going to her hair.

“Tris there’s a tuft of hair literally sticking right up at the back.” She pointed out, smirking as her hand went to pat it down reflexively.

“Okay fine I’ll get in the shower.” She sighed and stood up, trying not to think about passing Jeanine in her bathrobe, trying not to think about how cute she looks when she’s not ready for the rest of the world to see her, the trust that she’s put obviously put in Tris, otherwise why else would she let her see her like this.

She knocks on the door, a tiny bit nervously, smooths her still damp hair down, and when she enters in answer to the soft “come in,” she tries not to stare at the way that Jeanine’s makeup enhances her eyes. She’s never seen her with darker eye makeup, especially not the smoky eye that Jeanine has, or the full lashes that she realises must be fake. Her hair’s down for once, too, tousled and taking advantage of the length that she’s gained since they’d first met, and Tris almost trips over her own feet as she attempts to take a seat on the end of the bed, opposite her.

“It’ll be very natural, you just can’t touch your face until we get back.” Jeanine is back to being brisk, reminding Tris of before, when they had barely spoken, and when she starts to apply things that Tris doesn’t recognise her hands undermine her brisk tone, her touch soft. Tris tries not to look at her, but she knows that she’s caught several times, her eyes wide, and when Jeanine finally leans back, and Tris is finally free from the cloud of her perfume and the piercing stare of her blue eyes, she’s smirking a little. When she looks past Jeanine and into the mirror, it’s just enough that her eyes stand out more, shimmering a little silver around them, her skin is flawless and her lips pink, and Tris is surprisingly pleased with the result.

“See now we have an hour and we’re both basically ready,” Tris complained.

“An hour to sit around in our bathrobes,” Jeanine smiles. “It’ll give you time to touch your face a thousand times so I can clear it up before we leave.”

“I’m not that bad,” she argues, but her hand is hovering in mid air from where she almost itched her eye, and Jeanine just arches a perfect eyebrow, turning to pack everything back into her makeup case as Tris stands.

“Well er thank you,” she stutters, and leaves.

Tris is ready first, somehow, and she's standing around when Jeanine finally emerges, and she again has to try really hard not to stare. She hasn't seen that dress before, or those heels, which she's sure are the highest she's ever seen her wear, and when she stops next to Tris, who's having a hard time breathing, she notices that she's also almost the same height as her.

“You wore the highest heels you could on purpose, didn’t you?” Tris eventually managed, ignoring how Jeanine’s been smirking at her silence for a good minute, although if Jeanine’s being honest she’s glad for the long pause because it gives her time to process the whole outfit, to process Tris being even taller than usual, her hair actually vaguely neat, and wearing that colour of blue, not identical to the blue that Jeanine herself was wearing, but perfectly complimenting it, while also complimenting her skin tone.

“Your height may have been something I considered while making my choice,” she says diplomatically, and checks the clock. “Hmm, we should wait another five minutes.”

“But we’re already late,” Tris complains, though she follows her to sit down in the living room,

“Yes, so we’re perfectly placed to make an entrance. I wasn’t on time to anything once people knew who I was.”

“We’re going to draw enough attention as it is.”

Jeanine glances at the clock again. “Fine, we can go, but if we’re the first ones there I won’t be happy.”

They’re not the first ones, by any means, and they draw a lot of glances as Tris helps Jeanine out of the car and then links her arm through hers, the two of them practically sauntering inside, aware that Four is staring them down the entire time. They take flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, and set up camp in a corner. It’s much more lavish than Tris had been expecting, and at the back of her mind she considers how just last week they’d been discussing the homeless problem that the council “could not afford” to rectify. Thankfully Jeanine distracts with some scathing about Jack Kang’s monochrome outfit, leaning close enough for Tris to be able to smell her perfume, and she can barely keep a straight face when he makes his way over to them.

“Miss Prior, this is not quite what I intended when I said you could bring a plus one.”

“It’s not like I had any other plans,” Jeanine interjected, not letting him talk around her.

“Jeanine,” he smiled, tightly. “No, I suppose you didn’t.”

“And I just thought it would be nice to have a catch up with the people who put me in jail.” Her eyes are steely, and her smile cold, and it reminds Tris of when she first met her, of before everything happened, and somehow it doesn’t bring back war flashbacks, but there’s something rather like a rosy glow on those memories. Like she was young, and now she is old, and she’s remembering her first crush, and realising that she hadn’t noticed it at the time because she wasn’t old enough to know what those feelings were, or she’d repressed them.

“Jeanine, you know we had to do that.”

“I know, and that’s why I didn’t fight it.”

“You didn’t fight it because you have no upper body strength.” Tris interrupted, grinning, and Jeanine almost laughs in response, like she’d surprised her.

“I do suppose that that had something to do with it.”

They’re smiling at each other, and Jack feels like he’s intruding on something private, so he excuses himself, and wonders if their feelings have been acted upon, or if they’re clueless that they’re reciprocated.

They’re not paying attention when Four approaches later, Jeanine’s telling her about that time Jack Kang tripped in a meeting (he’s one of her favourite people to mock), and they’re both laughing, and he doesn’t seem to think that means that’s a bad time to interrupt. He doesn’t even start with pleasantries, while at least everyone else had managed to spare a nod for Jeanine before trying to monopolise Tris’s time. They’ve both had a couple of glasses of champagne, but Tris’s face still drops as soon as Four starts to speak.

“Tris I really need to talk to you.”

“No you don’t Four, we’ve done all of the talking that needs to be done,” she sounds exasperated, and Jeanine isn’t thinking when she puts a hand on her lower back as a quiet gesture of support.

“She doesn’t love you, she’s just using you as an opportunity to try to regain her power.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tris sighs. “Four, what do you really think warning me away from her is going to do? You think I’m going to listen to you because we used to date? Go back to talking to people that actually asked for your opinion.”

Jeanine can’t help the smirk that makes it’s way onto her face at that, when before she’d just looked angry, and it’s a little bit proud, proud of Tris being rude when she usually would have just been quiet and a little exasperated and probably understanding. It’s nice to see her abrasiveness rubbing off on her.

Four turns to her, angry. “Take your hand off of her.” He says, and it’s a repeat of what happened in their apartment, even in the way that it’s still Four against the both of them.

“No,” is all she says, and his jaw tightens.

“Four you really don’t want to start a fight.” Tris sighs, and she moves closer to Jeanine, who’s arm tightens, and Tris figures it’s probably not an appropriate time to be distracted by that, but she is.

“It’s probably time we leave anyway, we’re drawing even more attention than we were earlier.” Jeanine says, not thinking about Tris’s side pressed against her own, trying to avoid wondering why that can still affect her, even after all of this time.

“You’re right. I’ll see you around, Four.” Tris leads the way, and Jeanine’s arm stays wrapped around her all the way to the car, even when Tris takes a full bottle of champagne off of a passing waiter’s tray, ignoring any attempt that was made to stop her.

“I don’t suppose you have any champagne flutes?” Jeanine asks as she kicks her shoes off in the dark hallway, smiling.

“Surprisingly not,” she paused. “Actually I don’t think I have wine glasses either?” She’s smiling too as she passes Jeanine the champagne bottle, and she notices that she’s even taller than usual because she hasn’t taken her shoes off yet, and that Jeanine still looks incredible in half light, and she’s almost disappointed as she steps away.

“We’re not drinking champagne out of pint glasses,” she says firmly.

“Well, I suppose mugs would be slightly better?” she tried.

She hears Jeanine tut as she disappears into the kitchen, and she slips her shoes off, relieved, and flops down onto the sofa.

“Why don’t we just drink it out the bottle?” she suggests.

“This is far too nice champagne for that.” She sounds outraged, and Tris just laughs in response, especially when she appears in the doorway and flicks the main light on, her face showing how awful she thought that suggestion to be.

“Well you can use that one randomly small glass and I’ll drink it out of the bottle.”

Jeanine rolls her eyes but comes back with the glass, stockinged feet padding softly on the carpet, and Tris smiles as she taps her on the leg with the bottle, getting her to move up and make space. Once she’s sat up again Jeanine hands her the bottle and then lets herself fall onto the sofa, but carefully so that she doesn’t spill her drink.

“I see that Four is still is still a delightful person to be around.” She says, after watching Tris take a swig with distaste clear in her raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m so glad that interaction happened,” Tris sighed. “And I was so enjoying listening to you be mean about literally everyone present, too.”

“My speciality,” Jeanine smirked, but it was definitely affectionate.

“You looked so proud when I was mean to Four, like you’d seen an amazing transformation.”

“You weren’t even mean to him last time, even though he literally came into our apartment without permission, so I felt like it was character development.”

“You’ve been rubbing off on me,” She laughed and let her head fall back onto the sofa, yawning, her head falling to the side to look at Jeanine.

“I’m just teaching you how to look after yourself.” She smiled and met her eyes, and suddenly the other end of the sofa felt like it was a long way away, further than she would have liked, anyway, and she looks down into her glass.

“Coming from the person who couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag.” Tris teases, her eyes tracing her features against her will, absorbing high cheekbones and long lashes and slightly smudged makeup like she’d been deprived it for months and she needed it to live.

“I don’t need to fight my way out of a paper bag when I can look at the paper bag and intimidate it into not attacking me,” she laughed, and sipped her drink. “You have to admit you found me intimidating when you first met me.”

“You were… Very different from anyone in Abnegation,” Tris paused, took the plunge. “I was interested, more than anything. Well, I was intimidated too.”

“”Interested”?” Jeanine quoted, eyebrow raised, and she tried to stop her brain from instantly going straight to what she hoped for, instead of thinking about the realistic options, such as her just presenting an idea of someone that Tris hadn’t seen before.

“After the first time we met, at the choosing ceremony, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She blushed, aware she sounded like she was in one of those terrible romance books Jeanine pretended like she didn’t read. “And then you showed up at Dauntless, and you were there during my phase two test, and then you jabbed my bullet hole that time and I stabbed you in the hand, and now we’re here.”

“And “here” is?” she prompted, trying not to hope.

“Well, it’s this sofa that was here when we moved in, it’s me thinking you look cute in the mornings, and, well, “here” seems to indicate that I’m not impartial anymore.” She didn’t stutter as much as she was expecting, but she could feel her heart racing, was practically sweating under the weight of Jeanine’s unwavering blue gaze.

“Does this mean you’re fond of me, or that you’re more than fond of me?” She eventually asks, and Tris sighs.

“Those aren’t even easily quantifiable amounts.”

“I really am rubbing off on you, for you to worry about that.” There’s a moment of quiet, like they’re weighing up their options, almost like they’re daring each other to move first, but it’s Tris that turns in her seat, that faces her and slowly leans, but then it’s Jeanine whose hand comes to rest on her jaw, who meets her halfway.

“It means I’d like to do more of that.” Tris says, when she pulls back, and she smiles when Jeanine sets her glass and the bottle on the floor then kisses her again, quick and soft, and smiles back.


End file.
